INHERITANCE: Memorandum Of Scales

A RUINED VILLAGE

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Everyone... Katrina...

Sloan rolled on blood-soaked dirt ground as a blazing fire consumed his home. He had been stabbed, every breath causing him an explosion of pain. From underneath the curtain of his sweat-drenched hair, He saw soldiers of the Empire running from house to house, pulling out the inhabitants and killing them with no warning.

Screams filled the night air. Mounted men ran down fleeing children and women, the smell of burnt flesh taking up residence in Sloan's nose as his former villagemates burned.

It wasn't supposed to be like this...
The day had started off well. He woke early, made his way across the grassy pasture to an Imperial military camp. He was dressed in his finest clothing, had combed his hair as best he could, and had even applied sweet-smelling perfumes that he had bought from a southlander. The guards were hesitant to admit him, but when he said he had information regarding their search, they let him through.

"If you are lying, it is on your head." One of them had grumbled, and Sloan bowed,  making his way past.

Once Galbatorix made him a noble, he would make sure he would have that soldier scourged. The military camp was well-organized, with every man doing a task- some were cleaning, others training, and a few were gathered in semi-circles, resting on swords and axes and hammers as they poured over maps. He picked up various accents from their speech, and many of them spoke a tongue that he didn't understand. The soldiers sounded like they came from the near east, and others talked in a foreign tongue must have belonged to some Imperial states in the western coasts. A guard led him to a large tent, tan in color with two soldiers positioned at the mouth of it.

"Our Captain is inside. Tell him everything you know." The man instructed sternly as Sloan slid through. The Captain was seated before a medium sized table, a roast duck half eaten cooled before the man. He was muscular, with round shoulders and a thick neck. Long fingers wrote on a piece of parchment as pale eyes scanned the page from left to right. Sloan stood silently, until the Captain sighed and looked up with an annoyed expression.

"For the love of the god, sit down." He said, thrusting a fist towards the empty chair that sat on the other side of the table. Sloan did as he was told, noticing the congealing grease that formed underneath the man's breakfast. The Captain put down his quill, moving his parchment to the side as he regarded Sloan with critical eyes.

"You have information; I'm assuming that's why you're here." The man said. Sloan nodded eagerly, and opened his mouth like a gaping fish.

"Before you begin, however, let it be known that any false leads will be dealt with. Severely."

Sloan smiled at that. He had seen a dragon. There could be nothing truer than that sight.

The man frowned at Sloan's smile but nodded, clasping his hands together, leaning forward.

"There was a drifter that came to Carvahall some weeks past, I'm sure you've been informed of him." Sloan started. The Captain nodded.

"Well, I never trusted him. So I see him and one of Garrow's adopted boys, Eragon, sneak off into the night. I followed them, and I swear to the gods and to the great King himself, I saw a dragon. A baby one. I know you told us that you were looking for a stone, but perhaps that stone was actually an egg...it hatched."

The Captain's eyes flew open and he moved closer to Sloan from across the table.

"What did you say. . ." He trailed off, and his neck seemed to bulge.

"I saw it. I saw a dragon." Sloan said confidently. The Captain stood and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Gurnble! Get in here!" He screamed, to which one of the guards from the opening of the tent appeared behind Sloan.

"Get the mage. And quickly." The Captain ordered. Sloan heard Gurnble go running off. The Captain turned his eyes to Sloan.

"If you're lying to us. . . I will have you flayed. Presented to the world impaled on a wooden stake." He said casually.

Sloan shuddered at the thought, but kept his composure.

"I promise you, I tell true." He vowed. The Captain looked away from him and to the entrance of his tent, where Gurnble and the mage returned.
Sloan turned to look at him. He was a middle-aged man, dressed plainly, with tattoos circling his forehead. Brown hair fell from his long face, and his hands were wrapped in black bandages.

"Is this the man?" The mage asked. TheCaptain nodded.

"Yes. Do what you must."

The mage walked towards Sloan. Without warning, he threw his hand towards the seated Sloan, gripping his head in a deathly lock. Sloan felt as if someone was beating his head in with a club as the mage forcibly rewound his mind, viewing his memories. Finally, he let go of Sloan, who slumped over in his seat while breathing heavily.

The mage wore a grim face.

"He speaks true. It was dark, but I saw it. The dragon. It is only a fledgling."

The tent was silent. Sloan coughed awkwardly.

"About my reward..." He began, only to be bellowed at by the Captain.

"Reward?" The Captain screamed indignantly. "Take this moron out of my tent. Jalin, get me in contact with Durza."

Sloan was screaming and cursing as he was dragged from the tent and then to the boundary of the military camp. He stood there, demanding that the Captain see him once more, but when he was greeted by a soldier who threatened him with his blade.

He swallowed his pride and returned to Carvahall. The rest of the day played out as usual: Working in his meat shop, dragging Katrina away from Roran when the bastard boy returned from his patrols, and glaring at Eragon, who was either talking to the stranger or Garrow. He knew their secret, and he smiled at that.

The soldiers would come here, and he was sure that they would all be killed. Then Katrina would be his.
When he was granted lordship, he would marry her to a great young man from one of the higher houses of the kingdom.

But then night came.

Imperial soldiers turned their swords on their own people. The last he saw of Katrina, she was being dragged away by Roran and some of the younger local recruits. Sloan had screamed and screamed, but the only answer he received was a sword plunged into his stomach, and a torch set to his house.

"Durza commanded to bring two survivors in the event that we fail to find the egg." A rough voice sounded over the cracking fire.

A man kicked Sloan over, and he screamed as his dull pain was flared again.

"I found one." A soldier said with a toothy smile that glowed in the light of the inferno.